Year Five: Babysitters
by OrigamiStarz
Summary: Legolas and Gimli babysit. Well, mainly Legolas. Part Five of The Meribor Chronicles.


**A/N: HI again! *waves sheepishly* So so so so so sorry for the super long wait. It's been almost two years! I've :0 But for the kind review of Guest27, it would've been longer, so a big shout out to them!**

 **School has been a killer, and without the time and motivation to write more fanfiction, I've seriously slacked off. I still have plenty of ideas for these chronicles, I just don't know when they'll be written. For those of you who also have read my one other fic, "Searching For Tigress," I'll try and have some kind of update.**

 **Anyway, I'm not sure how good this one is, particularly since I rushed it a little and it's one in the morning and I decided not to edit.**

 **A Word About the Series: This is part of a semi-continuing, post-LOTR series named "The Meribor Chronicles." They don't have to be read in order, but as they are (slowly) written, I might reference past plot lines and events. They include both book and movie verse!**

 **Usual disclaimer that none of this is mine.**

Year Five: Babysitters

 **FO 30**

"Are you sure you will be all right, _gwador nîn_?" Aragorn asked for the millionth time.

Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Eryn Lasgalen, waved away his friend's concern as he gently held the princess. "You worry too much, Aragorn. Gimli and I can take care of a sleeping child for a few hours."

" _Days,_ not hours, Legolas." The king apprehensively eyeing his daughter, who was slumped against Legolas' chest. Aragorn had come to his friends as last-minute nannies for the young child, since Meribor's usual caregiver had just given birth. Now, he was beginning to regret the decision. "And remember, the replacement nanny is due two days from now."

"Yes, yes. You mortals have such an odd concept of time. Nevertheless, that is a minor detail," said Legolas dismissively.

Aragorn choked on air. "' _Minor detail_ '?"

"I predict that she will sleep most of the time. And Gimli is an expert at the subject of putting one to sleep." Legolas gestured towards his companion, who flushed slightly, tightened his grip on the axe he held, and muttered something less than complimentary about a certain elf. Said elf only laughed merrily and danced out of reach. "You have nothing to fear; your daughter will be safe with us."

The king of Gondor exchanged a look with his queen, neither of them comforted by their friend's proclamation. "Do not hesitate to call for help," said Arwen. "The staff are more than willing to assist."

"We will not need them," Legolas said grandly.

"Unless we are in dire danger," muttered Gimli.

"Here, perhaps we should wake Meribor now so she can say goodbye." Aragorn reached for his daughter, only to have Legolas shake his head and move swiftly away.

"You do not propose to awaken the little princess?" The elf sounded shocked. "Why, she is sleeping ever so peacefully!"

"Yes, but she will not like it if she wakes up and finds her parents gone," Arwen reasoned.

"You do not want to know what happened the last time we made such a mistake," added Aragorn darkly.

"She will not even realize that you have left." Legolas swung around to face his dwarf friend. "Am I correct, Gimli?"

"I wish to remain neutral," Gimli said, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Dwarves," muttered Legolas.

Aragorn sighed and mounted his horse, Arwen doing the same. He had a feeling that when he returned, his city was going to be in worse off than when he had left it. Still, there was nothing to be done — Éomer had insisted that a meeting was of vital importance, requesting both the king and the queen's presence.

"Perhaps we should take her with us," Aragorn uttered in his wife's ear.

"That is not such a bad idea." Arwen cast a worried glance at her daughter, blissfully asleep in Legolas' arms. "We really should wake her…"

"No" was all Legolas said. The elf danced away from the king and the queen, sprinted past the confused guards, the princess clutched to his chest, all the while pulling Gimli with him. The three of them were gone in a flurry of movement.

Arwen, just barely spying her friend's golden head as he fled towards the royal quarters, asked her husband, "Remind me again why we decided that this was a good idea?"

"I think we thought that Merry would be safer with Legolas and Gimli than with the twins," replied Aragorn. "Besides, we could not find them. Elladan and Elrohir have been quick to absent themselves from your presence since the ambassador debacle. I cannot blame them; if I had received the amount of death threats they have in the past several months, I would be quick to avoid you as well. Ouch!"

Aragorn rubbed his head and glared at Arwen, who had grabbed the nearest thing she could get her hands on — in this case, her gloves — and hit her husband with it.

"I am sorry, _meleth nîn_. Did that hurt?" she asked with mock sympathy.

"As a matter of fact, it did. You forget that you still have elven strength," complained Aragorn.

"I forget nothing," replied Arwen. She then reached over and cupped her husband's face in her hands, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Is that better?"

"Much."

"Then let us go, husband," was the queen's reply, and the couple turned and passed through the beautiful gates, the usual parade of guards trailing behind them.

Hour One:

"This will be easy," proclaimed Legolas as he settled Meribor into her bed.

"You say that now, but have you ever taken care of a human child before?" asked Gimli from where he stood in the doorway.

The elf shook his head. "No. Yet it cannot be that hard. Look, she will sleep the whole time."

"She will wake up."

"Perhaps," Legolas said, but his tone indicated that he thought such an event was unlikely to occur.

"Legolas…," said Gimli, his voice full of warning; the elf ignored his friend.

The prince of Eryn Lasgalen padded on silent feet to the large trunk that lay in a corner of Meribor's room. Recently the beautiful girl had moved from the nursery in the royal quarters to her own and the trunk was filled with a number of things. Some of them were toys, others were carefully wrapped bundles of herbs, a fair amount were books, and the rest was made up of quills and parchment. Legolas gingerly extracted a slim box from the trunk and placed it on the ground, eagerly undoing the clasps.

"What are you doing?" Gimli asked as curiosity got the best of him.

"We may as well pass the time. I wish to learn how to play this game," said Legolas and he pointed at the long board in front of him. There were three rows of ten squares, five of them bearing engraved runes that meant specific instructions. Then the elf removed four sticks — each one had a white side and a black side — and fourteen elaborately carved figures — seven of them white, the other black.

"Give the seven white ones to me." The dwarf relinquished his seat to settle on the floor across from his friend.

"White?"

"Are you deaf?" inquired Gimli as he pulled off his boots. "White."

Legolas frowned but handed the stout creature seven of the figures and began placing his own on the board, only to have Gimli sweep them away with his thick forearm. "We start with nothing on the board," explained the dwarf as Legolas scrambled after his pieces. "Then we throw the sticks."

Gimli and Legolas leaned over the small pile of sticks. "All of them are white," Legolas announced.

"That means I move my piece five spaces." Gimli picked up one of his figures — this one had a grotesque-looking face that reminded him of an orc — and counted out five squares.

The elf shook his head. "You are wrong, Gimli. There are only four sticks, not five. Your _yrch_ cannot move five squares."

"I am not wrong," Gimli said hotly, ignoring the fact that Legolas had addressed his piece as an orc. "It is in the rules — four white sticks means that the player moves five spaces."

"But it does not makes sense!" protested Legolas.

"Who cares if it makes sense? It is a game and it is your turn," snapped Gimli.

The two friends held their breaths as Meribor made a noise in the other room.

The elf grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath when it was clear that the child had not woken; he then took the sticks and threw them. "Three black and one white. So I move one square."

"No, you move three," Gimli corrected.

Legolas threw his hands up in the air. "I do not understand this Mannish game," he complained.

"You were the one who wanted to learn! Give me those," was his companion's reply as Gimli tossed the sticks. "Think of this as a race," Gimli told Legolas. "To win, you must get all of your figures to the end of the board." The dwarf took up another of his pieces. "Now, the sticks were three black and one white. Watch this." Gimli put his new piece on the board, moved it three spaces so that it was nestled next to Legolas' piece. Then he took the elf's and moved it back to the first square.

Legolas frowned and then opened his mouth to argue, raising the piece a little off the board, only to blink in surprise as the carved figurine was snatched from his grip.

Meribor had toddled — no, _toddled_ was not the right word; the princess already had the grace of her elf mother and she could walk and talk reasonably well — over to the pair of friends and now stood beside the board, examining the little piece of carved wood.

"Merry, give that to Uncle Legolas," the elf all but crooned, reaching for the little girl.

The princess giggled and moved out of reach. Gimli struggled to stifle his laughter at Legolas' expression.

"Merry, your _ada_ will not be pleased if he discovers that piece missing," tried Legolas. No response. "He will be very, _very_ angry."

The child was most unimpressed with Legolas' threat. She simply blinked solemn gray eyes, unusually quiet, as if she had decided that she could not be bothered enough to speak. Legolas muttered something in elvish — and Gimli decided that he did not want to know what was said, as the elf's expression was steadily growing darker. Eventually, the lithe being added in the Common Speech, "Has anyone told you that you are as infuriating as your father?"

Meribor suddenly brightened and nodded fiercely. "Dan and Ro say that all the time."

Legolas snorted. "It is not really a compliment, _tithen pen_."

The princess whirled to face her uncle. Gimli did not know if she fully understood Legolas' words, but she had certainly heard the tone with which the elf had spoken. " _Ada_ is the best," she insisted, chin wobbling a little.

"Your _ada_ is the best," agreed Gimli and spread his arms so that the little child could sit in his lap. She did so eagerly and glared across the board at Legolas, who had suddenly become public enemy number one. Meribor still held the elf's piece in her small hands. "Do you know how many scrapes he has gotten that one" — a stab of the finger in Legolas' direction — "out of trouble?"

"It is the other way around," mumbled Legolas, his voice loud enough that the dwarf could hear him.

"What was that, Legolas?" Gimli asked.

Legolas forced a smile onto his face and a happy tone into his voice. "Nothing! Please continue with what you were doing!"

Gimli turned his attention back to the small child in his lap. "How about a story, Merry? That sounds like a lot of fun to me."

"I am hungry," whined Meribor. "Can I have a snack, Uncle Gimli? Please? Please, please, _please_?"

"Of course, princess. Do you want…" Gimli trailed off, searching the room wildly for something his friend's daughter could eat. His eyes fastened on an apple in a nearby fruit bowl and he inched his way over to it, Meribor securely seated in his lap. Legolas watched the two of them, amusement lighting his gaze as Gimli accidentally knocked the bowl off the table it stood upon. Neither of them were very amused a moment later when the bowl stared into a million pieces on the floor, even though it was carpeted in a thick, rich fabric.

"That is not good," muttered Legolas.

Meribor began to chant the word "hungry" over and over. Gimli handed the princess the slightly-bruised apple, certain that their troubles were over; but the child screamed instead of accepting the fruit and threw it halfway across the room, where it smashed into the wall and lay still. Gimli and Legolas winced — Meribor's screams had only intensified in the past few moments.

"Hungry!" the child wailed dramatically.

"What is wrong with her?" asked Gimli

"I do not know. I have never seen a human child act like this before, even when hungry," replied Legolas. "Perhaps it would behoof us to find some food. What do you want to eat, Merry?"

"Cake."

"Maybe we should have lunch first," suggested Gimli.

Meribor shook her head vehemently. "Cake," she said stubbornly. When the two friends hesitated, she opened her mouth as if to scream again.

"Cake it is," said Legolas hurriedly, wishing to avoid another scene. He scooped Meribor up into his arms and started out the door, waiting in the hallway for Gimli after a few minutes, and more than a few curses in dwarvish, the stout creature stumbled out of Meribor's rooms. He had had great difficulty pulling on his boots only to realize that a large bit of glass from the broken bowl had migrated into his shoes. So now Gimli hobbled on socked feet, wincing slightly as he went.

"I am sure there is something in Meribor's trunk for your cuts," said Legolas sympathetically. "You can stay here if it hurts too much."

Gimli only grunted and continued forward.

Hour Six:

Legolas rubbed his eyes tiredly. Even an elf had limits — and Legolas felt strangely exhausted in a way that he had not for a very long time. Meribor lay in her bed, whimpering softly in her sleep, catching the few hours of sleep she could before she needed to throw up again. Legolas pushed vomit-crusted hair away from the princess's forehead and sighed, trying to remember how this all started.

Oh, yes. The kitchen.

There had not been any cake, to Meribor's unhappiness, but Gimli and Legolas had managed to find a meat pie and a jar of cookies in a cupboard. Legolas had not been hungry; the other two devoured the pie and everything seemed all right for a few hours. Then Meribor had complained of chills and a stomach ache. About two hours later, the poor child had begun to throw up, and when Gimli had begun to exhibit the same symptoms, he had run off to his own quarters.

There was a knock on the beautiful wooden door. Legolas shot up and opened it for Ivoreth, the healer who had attended to Meribor since birth. The woman swept inside without a word and headed directly for the princess's bedroom. "What happened?" she snapped as her eyes took in the sick child and the metal bucket of vomit.

"She ate bad food," explained Legolas as the healer worked. "We were not aware until later."

"The servants brought up bad food?" Ivoreth's tone was incredulous.

"No, we went to the kitchens."

Ivoreth muttered something about elves under her breath. She rifled around in the pack she had brought from the Halls of Healing, eventually pulling out a small waterskin. The healer then tipped Meribor's head back and gently poured some of its contents into her mouth. "Water," she told Legolas. "There is not much that I can do; it should resolve itself without treatment. I will have someone bring a little tea and soup. But if the sickness persists, find me."

"You're leaving?" Legolas asked, trying not to sound desperate.

Ivoreth gave him an odd look. "Surely you can fetch a few glasses of water without assistance?"

Legolas floundered awkwardly for a reply. "Yes," he said at last.

"Good," replied the healer. "I shall return to check on her tomorrow morning if you have not fetched me by then."

"Perhaps you would look in on Gimli?" he requested. "I'm afraid he consumed some of the same food as Meribor."

Ivoreth nodded sharply, then disappeared around the corner with a snapping of her cloak.

The sound of Ivoreth's departure half-woke Meribor, who stirred sleepily. "Where is _Naneth_?"

"She will be back soon, _tithen pen_ , I promise."

The child's lip wobbled. "I want _Naneth_."

"I know, Meribor. Sleep for now."

Meribor sighed deeply, shifted against her pillow and sheets, then disappeared once more into the land of dreams. Legolas settled in for a long night.

Hour Ten:

Meribor had slipped into a true, deep sleep an hour ago in Legolas' arms, and he had not dared to move for fear of awakening the child. The tea and soup Ivoreth had promised lay half-finished in their containers — he had only managed to get a little of each into Meribor's stomach. The healer had returned once to assure Legolas that Gimli, although quite stricken by the illness, would recover. Before her departure, he had also asked that Ivoreth find someone who would locate Maari, Meribor's former and quite pregnant nanny, in the hopes that she might acquiesce to caring for the child until the replacement's arrival. Ivoreth had had quite a few choice words for him to the tune of that she was far too old to be running around the city in the middle of the night and it was his own fault that he was in the predicament to begin with. Still, Legolas had a feeling she would do what he asked of her, if not for his sake, then Meribor's.

He wondered what Aragorn and Arwen would do when they found out about this disaster, and then decided he would rather not dwell upon it. Legolas leaned back against the headboard. Would it hurt if he slept for a few hours? Meribor wasn't going anywhere.

Legolas decided to risk it.

Hour Twenty:

When he woke up, the sun was shining and Meribor was missing.

Legolas shot up ramrod straight and panicked, because _of course_ something else went wrong. Caring for Estel had never been this difficult, although he had to admit that then he had always had the assistance of Imladris and had only done so alone when the boy was older. Legolas flung himself out of bed, sure that losing Aragorn's only child would be an offense that even his old friend would not be able to forgive, when a peal of laughter echoed from a corner of the room. Slowly, Legolas turned on his heel to find Meribor, healthy and hale, playing with a pair of dolls and Maari sitting beside her.

"Maari," Legolas breathed in relief.

"Your Highness," replied Maari, a twinkle in her eye that spoke of undisguised human mirth. Clearly she found it amusing that he was not able to stay a whole day.

Legolas gathered up his dignity and said, "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I understand you are with child." But the words died on his lips as he noticed the woman's very flat stomach.

"No longer, sir. His Majesty granted me leave to spend with my child."

"Then I apologize for taking you away from your family."

Maari shook her head. "It is my pleasure to serve. Besides, I have missed this little troublemaker," she added, and tickled Meribor's stomach gently.

"Wonderful. Well, I must be going. Goodbye, Meribor. Maari."

"Bye, Uncle Leggy!"

Legolas nearly tripped over his feet upon hearing the nickname, but recovered quickly enough that the guards outside were none the wiser. Gimli's door was locked fast, which meant nothing important to him and he rapped smartly on the door. After a few moments, the door creaked open, his friend's bearded face was present in the small crack.

"Good morning, Gimli!"

The dwarf groaned and shut the door.

Surprised, Legolas knocked again. "Gimli? Are you ill?"

"Only because of your countenance."

"That is quite unkind."

There was no response, only the sound of something mildly liquid hitting the bottom of a bucket. "Gimli," Legolas called through the wood, "I shall go fetch Ivoreth."

 _gwador nîn_ — my brother

 _tithen pen_ — little one

 _Naneth_ — mother

 _ada_ — father

 _meleth nîn_ —my love


End file.
